


a couple of aliens and a human walk into a space ship

by putorius



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Outer Space, more tags to add as characters appear, some people are aliens and thats okay!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-29 09:30:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11438028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/putorius/pseuds/putorius
Summary: He looked behind him into the forest. He couldn’t climb a tree, but he was willowy and flexible and wouldn’t have much (if any) trouble hiding behind a tree or two.He turned to face forward. There was an alien looking at him. He blinked. It was still an alien.---otherwise known as the one where enjolras accidentally gets involved with some space hooligans





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> heads up! i say things like 'half-human' and 'full-blooded human' in this because it involves inter-species alien nonsense and i couldnt think of a better way to explain it. if that something that rubs you the wrong way, i totally get it - as a mixed kid myself, i know some gnarly insults get thrown around that sound Dangerously Similar to that.  
> also i didnt even reread this i just typed that last sentence and here we are. its also longer than i meant? i was gonna post this at like nine pages but the Story Kept Happening and now its sixteen. id keep writing but i have to go to bed lmao  
> expect more chapters?? idk ill see if you guys like this or not

Enjolras was a city boy more than anything else, but his family’s estate was comprised primarily of long, rolling fields and puffy pockets of trees. From where he was standing at the edge of the trees, he could see wide hills, his parent’s looming house, and even more trees. The city was not in sight. The sky was unaffected by streetlights.

There was a whirring somewhere around him that sounded unmistakably mechanical. He stilled to listen for it. It was low and quiet, but it seemed to encompass the entirety of the property. It was like it was in the back of his skull. He couldn’t discern the source of the whirring, but it put him on edge - like he might be in danger. Briefly, he thought about hiding in the trees, just in case. He looked behind him into the forest. He couldn’t climb a tree, but he was willowy and flexible and wouldn’t have much (if any) trouble hiding behind a tree or two.

He turned to face forward. There was an alien looking at him. He blinked. It was still an alien. He considered the possibility that what he was seeing was a random boy with complex Halloween makeup. He dismissed it. The gills on the boy (?) were fluttering wildly with distinctly organic finesse. It was breathing, presumably, through a series of tubes stuck through his gills. The tubes were attached to a smallish box. If Enjolras hadn’t been in shock, he might have guessed that the box, which was filled nearly entirely with water, was filtering the surrounding oxygen through the water and up into the tubes. The alien’s skin has a peculiar sheen to it - by Earth’s taxonomic standards, it might have been an amphibian.

“Resistance is futile,” said the alien.

Enjolras gaped.

“Resistance is futile,” said the alien again. The gills fluttered amicably. It might have been laughing.

“Excuse me,” said Enjolras.

“Resistance is futile,” said the alien. It’s voice warbled around English - Enjolras wondered what the alien’s first language sounded like, because he couldn’t imagine English was spoken wherever the hell this guy was from. “Prepare for probing.”

“I will not,” said Enjolras indignantly.

The gills fluttered again. Enjolras was  _ sure _ this was some type of laughter.

“Resistance is futile,” said the alien again. “Come.”

The alien gestured towards nothing. Enjolras’s eyes followed the hand - three long fingers with something that approximated a thumb, all webbed - to see the air above the ground of the field warping and waving like heat waves off pavement. Suddenly, a ship appeared. Later, Enjolras would think back and decide that the ship had been there all along, that it had been doing the suspicious whirring, and that it had engaged some kind of cloaking device.

The ship looked rather like a shitty minivan, if slightly more pointed at the front and softer around the edges. Enjolras guessed it could hold three or four passengers.

“No thank you,” said Enjolras.

“Dude,” said a voice behind him. “Chill.”

Enjolras turned. There was a human leaning against a tree.

“Chill?” said Enjolras incredulously.

“Not you,” said the human. “That fool over there.  _ He _ needs to chill.”

Enjolras looked at the alien again. Enjolras thought the alien was now looking fairly put-out, but he was nervous to make any assumptions about alien facial expressions and their meanings based on human standards.

“You’re a buzzkill, aren’t you?” asked the alien. “I’m just having some fun.”

“Your  _ fun _ is going to traumatize the poor kid,” said the human. “What if you hadn’t grown up with intergalactic travel? Imagine how  _ you’d _ feel if some splotchy, five-fingered monster showed up at your door to kidnap you.”

“Um,” said Enjolras. He had a feeling he was supposed to be the splotchy, five-fingered monster, and he was a little offended.

“Shush,” said the human. “Let me do my thing.”

“You cannot manipulate me,” said the alien. “Certainly not now that you’ve admitted to trying to manipulate me.”

“I’ve admitted nothing,” said the human innocently.

“ _ Let me do my thing _ ,” the alien quoted. “Oh, please.”

“How about this,” the human kicked off the tree and walked up to the alien. “How about you stop harassing my friend here, and I don’t slash your tires.”

The alien cocked it’s head. “That is a phrase I am unfamiliar with in English. Do you know it in Drachren?”

The human scowled. “Why don’t I just slash your tires anyway?”

The alien’s gills fluttered again, angrily this time.

“Just for that, I’ll take him with me,” said the alien.

“Wait,” said Enjolras.

Nobody waited. The alien grabbed Enjolras’s upper arm and dragged him toward his van-like ship. Enjolras noticed that the alien was much stronger than he’d anticipated. Enjolras stood little chance against the peculiar amphibious grip.

“Hey!” called the human. He lunged after Enjolras, but he wasn’t quick enough.

The alien shouted something in a fluid, bubbly language and the ship began to whir again. It lit up and the side slid open. Two more aliens sat inside the ship.

Enjolras felt the translucent film before he processed it. The film stretched over the open doorway. It was holding water in. There was no time for Enjolras to explain that he was unable to breathe without clear air before he was already inside. The door slide shut. The ship raised. Enjolras could see the human through a window, cursing angrily and running back towards the trees.

He couldn’t breathe. One of the aliens - a lacky, not the one who had brought him in - noticed, but seemed to have no idea what to do. They were all warbling at each other. One of them spoke directly to him, but it was no use. At the last second, one of the aliens drained just enough of the water for Enjolras to surge up and gasp for air.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he said. The aliens exchanged looks. One of them bobbed up to meet him.

“Hi,” it said.

“Hi,” said Enjolras, coughing a little.

“I’m talking to you because I breathe the best in air,” it said. “The others need more water.”

Enjolras said nothing, just scrambled for more air and some kind of understanding.

“I’ve never seen a human up close before,” said the alien. It’s accent was thicker than the first.

“I’ve never seen one of you up close before,” said Enjolras.

“Taph,” it said. “That’s the English version of our species, I think.”

“Taph,” said Enjolras.

“Not many people speak English,” it went on. “It is a human language, and humans haven’t made interstellar contact yet.”

“Why -” Enjolras coughed again. “Why do you -”

“It’s a trend,” said the taph. “We all think you’re sort of cute. It’s fun to watch humans fumble.”

“Ah,” said Enjolras.

“There is also a small population of half-humans,” said the taph. “They’re mostly ship-bound, but they do like to flock together. They usually speak English, which is why there is a word for our species in English.”

Enjolras wanted to ask why the half-humans mostly spoke English as opposed to another human language, like French or Chinese, but he was sure the taph wouldn’t know, not if it thought of humans as a cute, trendy gimmick.

That bubbly taph language was gurgling up through the water. Red lights began to flash. That, at least, seemed to be a universal - red, flashing lights mean danger.

“Apologies,” said the taph. “I have to go back under. We’re entering - I think the human word is  _ a shitstorm _ , yes?”

“Fuck,” said Enjolras.

\---

Enjolras woke up on a bed in a metal room. Well, calling it a bed was generous. It was more of a padded bench, to be clear, like something one might find in a reading nook. The whole room was about the size of a reading nook, but instead of light blue paint and pleasant, flowing curtains, everything was a dull metal, stuck together with what appeared to be little rhyme or reason. Functional, sure - but it was clearly a patchwork job. There was also a small desk and a regular office chair off to the side. If he stood up, Enjolras would have enough room to extend his arms in either direction, but not enough to lie on the floor. He would if he removed the desk and chair.

“You’re awake!” said a voice. Enjolras jumped in surprise.

The vents exhaled a single puff of cool air. “Sorry! That was too enthusiastic, right? I don’t normally supervise residential quarters like this - I find it a little rude - but Grantaire told me to keep an eye on you.”

Enjolras was too startled to speak for a moment, and then found himself. He cleared his thraot.

“I - Where are you?” he asked.

“Just sort of around, I suppose,” said the voice. “Most people look into the ceiling when they talk to me, but I’m not fussed any which way.”

“And you are?” asked Enjolras.

“An AI,” said the voice. “I don’t suppose you have proper AI’s on Earth, do you? Grantaire says they were all fake when he left, just automated systems.”

“No, I -” Enjolras cleared his throat again, just to have something to do. “Your name. Do you have one?”

“Oh!” said the AI. “That’s fascinating. You know, I wasn’t expecting you to ask my name. Lots of sapients don’t, even if they grew up interstellar. I’m sure you’ve never met a sapient AI, which is why I assumed you wouldn’t think to ask my name. Especially not with the shock you must be in.”

“I feel alright,” said Enjolras, who was on the edge of having a heart attack. “Your name?”

“Oh!” said the AI again. “Sorry. I forgot myself. Sometimes I get lost when I talk and it takes me a moment to find myself again. Marius. That’s my name - Marius. Sometimes we joke and say my last name is Pontmercy, but that’s just the company I’m from. Would you like a glass of water? I should alert the captain that you’re awake. Or Grantaire, at least.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marius,” said Enjolras. “I’m Enjolras.”

“Enjolras. That’s a nice name. French, yes? I love French. That’s why I picked Marius as my name. Both the captain and Grantaire have been alerted,” said Marius. “Traditionally, I would only alert the captain, but seeing as Grantaire was the one to save you -”

“Save me?” asked Enjolras. “Can you - what happened?”

“Ah,” said Marius. “Of course. It should come back to you eventually - I think you’re mostly just disoriented right now, and probably in some kind of shock - how are you not panicking, by the way?”

“I’ll panic in a little bit,” said Enjolras. “But please tell me what happened.”

“Of course. The teph were buzzing you and they took it too far, in my opinion,” said Marius.

“Buzzing me?” said Enjolras. He still hadn’t put his feet on the floor - his legs were curled up to the side. His right foot was in danger of falling asleep, but he was afraid that if he moved he might shatter whatever was happening around him.

“Yes,” said Marius. “A lot of English words for space-specific things are from  _ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy _ by Douglas Adams. The half-humans - most of them have read it, and it was easier to adopt words for things that were similar to what was described in the book than to come up with new ones. Have you read it?”

“Yes,” said Enjolras. He struggled to think of what  _ buzzing _ meant.

“It’s when aliens - rowdy teenagers, usually - go out into the middle of nowhere on some planet that hasn’t made interstellar contact and find some native who no one would ever believe and just sort of - well, they do just about everything they can think of to freak them out,” said Marius. “It’s very immature, and besides, traumatic for the victim. Normally they just waltz around making silly noises for a while. I don’t know  _ what _ the teph were thinking trying to take you with them.”

Ah. That explained the whole  _ resistance is futile _ nonsense.

“And what - where am I now? And what am I doing here?” asked Enjolras.

Before Marius could answer, the door to Enjolras’s room slid open. The human he had seen before was there, standing behind a taller humanoid. He was basically human-esque, except his dark brown skin appeared a shiny purple when the light hit it at the right angle. It was mostly noticeable around the cheekbones. His eyes were also noticeably larger than a human’s, but not alarmingly so. He was very, very tall - probably somewhere within the realm of human height, but a general anomaly. There was something particularly unnerving about him, something that was very certainly alien, but Enjolras couldn’t exactly identify it. It was probably something to do with his mouth, which didn’t seem to need to move very much to speak.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Combeferre, the ship’s captain.”

“Hello,” said Enjolras, who was suddenly aware that he probably looked insane and disheveled. “I’m Enjolras.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Combeferre. “Are you alright?”

The question caught Enjolras off-guard. “Um - I suppose.”

Combeferre nodded. “It’ll hit you in a little while, I suspect.”

“Enjolras was just asking how he got here,” chirped Marius. “I got as far as explaining buzzing to him.”

“Of course,” said Combeferre. “You must be so disoriented. The teph who kidnapped you clearly had no idea what a human would need in terms of , um,  _ breathing room _ . They hadn’t planned to take you up, we suspect, or they did so very poorly. Grantaire returned to his pod to go after you. I assume the danger lights went off?”

Enjolras nodded. Combeferre continued.

“Right. That would be when Grantaire attempted to dock with a non-docking ship,” Combeferre shot Grantaire an exasperated look. “It was stupid.”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna leave him,” said Grantaire. He looked sheepish.

“Which was good of you,” said Combeferre. “But still recklessly dangerous. So, Grantaire attempts to dock and it doesn’t do much but knock their sorry excuse for a ship around.”

“At which point they figure it’s probably easier to just drop you out the door,” said Grantaire.

“Grantaire caught you,” said Combeferre.

“I would have put you on the ground,” said Grantaire. “But, uh, the space police were coming. And we couldn’t get caught. Also, I thought this all might need some explaining.”

“Okay,” said Enjolras. “Jesus. Okay.”

Grantaire fidgeted for a second and then sat next to Enjolras. Enjolras curled his legs closer to himself.

“I really am sorry. It’s just -” said Grantaire.

“It’s not technically legal to have a full-blood human on board without permits,” said Combeferre. “Well, not humans specifically - the law is about species who haven’t independently made interstellar contact yet.”

Enjolras looked between Combeferre and Grantaire. Combeferre was surely inhuman - but Grantaire?

Grantaire grimaced. He knew what Enjolras was thinking.

“I’m half,” he said. “Drachren. Human. It’s whatever. I know I look basically human.”

“That’s -” said Enjolras. “That -uh- teph? They asked if you could say something in Drachren.”

Combeferre rolled his eyes. “Of course they did. They’re so immature.”

“That’s speciesist,” said Grantaire. It took Enjolras a moment to realize he was joking.

“That’s - I meant  _ those specific teph _ , Grantaire, not the whole species,” said Combeferre.

“Why is that rude?” asked Enjolras.

“I can’t speak Drachren,” said Grantaire. “I can, like, understand it pretty well. I just can’t speak it. I’m more - my biological output is mostly human, I literally don’t possess the right anatomy to speak Drachren.”

“What,” said Enjolras.

Grantaire shrugged. “I’d need a couple extra vocal chords, and another throat. Also, the ability to say two words at once.”

Suddenly, the bizarre nature of the situation landed on Enjolras’s shoulders. He felt like he’d gotten the wind kicked out of him.

“Fuck,” he said.

“There it is,” said Combeferre. “I’ll go get him some water. Grantaire, you’ll stay with him?”

Grantaire nodded. Combeferre exited.

There was a moment where Enjolras was unable to do anything but stare blankly at the floor. Grantaire reached out hesitantly and ended up rubbing circles on Enjolras’s back. If Enjolras had been able to look at Grantaire’s face, he’d see the vibrant discomfort plain on his face.

The repetitive feeling of circles on his back let Enjolras come out of his stupor. He began to try to grapple with everything he’d found out this evening.

“It’s okay,” said Grantaire. “I mean, it’s super fucking weird, but it could be weirder. Try finding out you’re an alien, man.”

“Did you not know?” said Enjolras. He was focused on a nail in the floor.

“Nope,” said Grantaire. “I just assumed everyone had tentacles for dicks.”

Enjolras suddenly looked stricken. Grantaire laughed.

“Kidding. I don’t have a tentacle dick. It’s fine,” said Grantaire. “No, I didn’t. There are certain - uh - facets of my person that aren’t  _ human _ , persay, but nothing unmanageable. My mom - the drachren - didn’t show up until I was sixteen. Time passes differently for drachren. She thought - she dropped me off at a baby and thought she’d get back when I was still an infant.”

“I’m - I’m sorry?” said Enjolras. He wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be a sad story or not.

“Don’t be. It’s all cool,” said Grantaire. “I’m mostly just trying to make sure you don’t have a panic attack.”

“I’m good,” said Enjolras sharply. “Just - when can I go home?”

“Ah. That’s the kicker,” said Grantaire. He shifted in his seat.

Enjolras narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Since it’s illegal for us to have a full-blood human on board and since the fucking space police are still hanging around your planet to make sure no one else buzzes you guys, we can’t drop you off safely. Not without getting arrested, at least,” said Grantaire.

“So -”

“So, you’re stuck with us for the time being,” said Combeferre, returning with a cup of water. He handed it to Enjolras, who hadn’t even noticed how thirsty he was.

“Oh,” said Enjolras.

“We just need to wait for them to get out of Earth’s airspace,” said Grantaire.

“Sort of,” said Combeferre. “They won’t leave if they notice us hanging around.”

“You’re joking,” said Grantaire, dragging a hand over his face. Combeferre looked pained.

“Afraid not,” he said. Grantaire stood up.

“Do not put me on human wrangling duty,” said Grantaire. “Do  _ not _ .”

“Did you want to drop him at one of the half-human colonies unattended?” asked Combeferre. “Did you want to let him run wild in the galaxy? Do you  _ want _ him to get picked up by a snatcher?”

“Snatcher?” said Enjolras. He couldn’t believe his life.

“They’re like poachers,” said Grantaire. “Find exotic species, hunt and display them. There aren’t any unmixed humans running around space yet. You’d fetch a nice sum.”

Enjolras scowled. He’d heard enough of people calling him  _ exotic _ back on Earth. He didn’t need it on a spaceship too.

“Long story short,” said Combeferre. “We can’t put you back yet, because we’ll get arrested. We can’t wait them out - we’ll get arrested. The only option is -”

“You have to take me with you,” said Enjolras, shoulders sagging. He was so tired.

“Just for a little while,” said Combeferre. “Just long enough that they’ll get bored, and then we can put you back.”

“Fine,” said Enjolras. “I know I don’t have a say, but fine.”

“Combeferre,” said Grantaire. “Come  _ on _ .”

“Be nice,” said Combeferre. “Give him the tour. Introduce him to everyone. Be  _ nice _ .”

“Not to interrupt,” said Marius. “But there’s a small situation in the communications room.”

Combeferre sighed. “What is it?”

“I’ll bet Courfeyrac is trying to send a transmission to an unsuspecting earthling,” said Grantaire.

“That is the exact situation at hand, yes,” said Marius.

Combeferre pinched the bridge of his nose. He shook his head, trying to appear more irritated than amused, failed, and left to deal with Courfeyrac.

“Be  _ nice! _ ” He shouted back at Grantaire.

“ _ Be nice _ ,” Grantaire mimicked. “I’m very nice. Haven’t I been nice?”

“I mean, you did save me from some aliens,” said Enjolras.

“Technically, I just re-abducted you. Don’t forget - I’m an alien too,” said Grantaire. He winked.

It had been a joke, clearly, but Enjolras  _ had _ forgotten. He’d been so desperate for some kind of normality that he’d forgotten Grantaire wasn’t human. He’d forgotten - his  _ eyes _ .

Grantaire noticed Enjolras staring.

“You found the eyes,” said Grantaire. “Great. I was wondering when we were going to get there.”

Grantaire’s eyes were only human so long as you didn’t pay close attention. The outer shape was average - mostly flat across the top lid and a soft curve around the bottom, sort of wide and innocent, downcast eyelashes. Grantaire had bright whites of his eyes, and irises and pupils, but the pupils were octagonal. The irises changed color. Enjolras had hardly noticed at first, when they were shifting between blue and green. Now, they were going orange. Amber.

“It’s the most obvious tell that I’m not human,” Grantaire said. “I mean, I can make it weirder, but I’d have to take my shirt off.”

“Do not,” said Marius. “Eponine is on her way down the hall and she’ll hit you if you do.”

“Eponine?” said Enjolras.

“You’ll like her. Maybe. I don’t actually know you well enough to tell, but I like her,” said Grantaire. “She’s like - think of her like a manager. Or a PR director. She makes sure we don’t get arrested.”

“Grantaire!”

Enjolras looked towards the open door. The voice was far off still, but irritation was present in the voice. It was scratchier than Combeferre or the teph’s voices had been, but wasn’t human.

“Hide me,” said Grantaire. He looked around. “There is nowhere to hide in this fucking shoebox.”

“Face the consequences of your actions,” said Enjolras.

“ _ You _ are the consequences of my actions,” said Grantaire. “Maybe if I stand perfectly still she won’t notice me.”

“She’ll notice you,” said Marius.

“Hush,” said Grantaire.

“Grantaire!” came the voice again. “Henri Grantaire!”

It was much closer this time.

“It’s like, fine,” said Grantaire. “But don’t stare.”

“At what?” asked Enjolras, standing up for the first time.

“You’ll find out,” said Grantaire.

There were a few angry footsteps and then Eponine was in the doorway. Enjolras tried pointedly not to stare, but found himself caught between staring and looking away completely.

“Dude, I just said not to be weird about it,” said Grantaire.

“I don’t care,” said Eponine. “I’m sure he’s never seen anything like me before.”

Her voice didn’t fumble around English the way the teph’s had. Rather, Enjolras suspected that she either spoke English natively or that her first language was remarkably similar. She had no apparent accent - just a scratchy, gravely quality that wasn’t perfectly human. Also, she was clearly reptillian.

“Hi,” said Enjolras.

Eponine regarded him for a moment. “Hi,” she said shortly, and then focused her attention on Grantaire.

“It’s fine,” said Grantaire.

“It isn’t,” said Eponine. “It really isn’t.”

“I was just trying to help a bro out,” said Grantaire.

“We have bigger problems now,” said Eponine.

“What?” said Grantaire.

“Bigger than police. Bigger than you picking up a  _ hitchhiker _ .”

Eponine’s scales shifted as she spoke. The more frantic, the angrier she probably was.

“The teph were stupid -” said Grantaire.

“No,  _ you’re _ stupid. You’ve simultaneously managed to exactly estimate how stupid the teph and and to underestimate how willing they are to do petty shit to get you back,” said Eponine.

“What?” said Grantaire again.

“I mean,” said Eponine. “That  _ someone _ \- and here, the word  _ someone _ means  _ those fucking teph bastards who you were colossally rude to _ \- started a rumor that there’s a starship going around with a real, actual human on it. Two ships have heard it at the very least, because the Patron Minette just called to tell me about it. That’s just outside of this solar system, Grantaire.”

“Oh, fuck,” said Grantaire. “Oh, fucking fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn’t wearing any shoes. He was wearing old, shitty sweatpants and a My Chemical Romance t-shirt from 2004 - Three Cheers era. He wasn’t dressed for this - he wasn’t dressed to run down to the corner store to buy a pack of Milk Duds, much less to wander the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i meant for this chapter to advance the plot but then i got distracted. oops? i still plan on writing more. i just thought this was an alright stopping place since i know i wont be able to crank out the next few scenes i want to and still have it wrap up. anyway: enjoy? maybe? i still havent even tried to edit this. whoops

News travels fast when you’re petty and angry, apparently. Enjolras figured he couldn’t have been out for very long - he wasn’t feeling especially groggy or lethargic, and his throat was still aching from gasping for air in that aquatic ship - but however long he’d been unconscious had been long enough for the teph to spread a rumor that some ship in the area was running around with a real full-blooded human on board. Enjolras was pretty sure this was a bad thing. It had to be, to have Eponine so fired up and Grantaire so apologetic.

Whatever. He couldn’t worry about the impending alien danger, not when nobody would tell him anything about it. Grantaire had apologized - sincerely, but briefly - and gone with Eponine to work damage control. Enjolras was alone. He was alone on a spaceship, somewhere outside of Earth’s atmosphere and getting farther away. He wasn’t wearing any shoes. He was wearing old, shitty sweatpants and a My Chemical Romance t-shirt from 2004 -  _ Three Cheers _ era. He wasn’t dressed for this - he wasn’t dressed to run down to the corner store to buy a pack of Milk Duds, much less to wander the galaxy.

He looked around the room, just in case a pair of shoes in his size was hiding behind something. There was nothing to hide behind. There were no shoes. Enjolras shrugged to himself and exited the room.

\---

Initially, Enjolras had imagined the ship as being smaller. Not tiny, just - of a respectable size. Small enough that he wouldn’t get lost or that he’d run into his old path quick enough. He wandered around the halls, assuming he’d find his way back to his room or that he’d run into Grantaire or Combeferre. He didn’t. The ship was larger than he’d originally thought. There were hallways upon hallways upon hallways. He’d turned two more corners and reached a fork in his path before he realized he’d made a huge mistake. He wouldn’t be able to remember which way he’d come, he’d get lost, and he only knew three - no,  _ four _ \- people on this stupid ship and he didn’t know where any of them were and none of them knew where  _ he _ was and -

“Enjolras?” asked Marius. “Not to interrupt your hyperventilating or anything, but you seem to be hyperventilating. Is there anything I can do to help you with that?”

Enjolras choked on a gulp of air. He’d forgotten one of the four people he knew was in the ceiling monitoring him.

“No -” said Enjolras. “No, just -  do you know where I am?”

There was a pause. Enjolras thought for a moment that Marius had gone away somehow.

“Yes,” said Marius slowly. “I do, in fact, know where you are. Do  _ you _ know where you are?”

“No,” said Enjolras.

“You’re on the Corinthe, a spaceship that mostly does cargo runs and low-level or obscure research. Currently, you are on the west end of the ship,” said Marius.

“Cardinal directions apply in space?” asked Enjolras. His feet were beginning to hurt from standing shoe-less on the grate of the hallway.

“No. I just thought that would help ground you for the moment,” said Marius.

“Ah,” said Enjolras. “And if I move, you’ll still know where I am?”

“All you have to do is call for me,” said Marius. “I monitor all ship activity. Except in residential quarters, normally.”

Enjolras nodded, realized Marius couldn’t see him, and then spoke. “Okay. I’m going to explore. Please don’t let me get lost.”

“Of course,” said Marius, and the conversation was over.

\---

If he had to estimate. Enjolras might guess that somewhere around forty-five minutes passed before he managed to run into any of the other life-forms on the ship. He’d have thought it would’ve happened sooner - he couldn’t be sure of the size of the crew, but given the wild expanse of the ship he’d seen thus far, he couldn’t imagine the ship would only have a four person crew.

There was a pleasant trill behind him. It was either music or a language, and Enjolras was willing to believe either at this point in his day. He turned. The voice belonged to a sweet looking alien who was covered mostly in light, cream colored feathers. A few here and there were dark brown or blue. The alien was distinctly avian, but with less beak and more lip than Enjolras was used to; and with opposable thumbs, though they were accompanied by six fingers on each arm (wing? It was difficult to be sure.). He blinked, hoping they would understand that Enjolras had no idea what was happening.

The alien trilled again. Nothing made any more sense. The alien cocked its head and cleared it’s throat.

“Do you - English?” they asked. “You speak English instead?”

Enjolras nodded. A few feathers puffed up around the alien’s shoulders.

“Who are you?” they asked.

“Enjolras,” said Enjolras.

“That’s French!” said the alien. “Did you pick it because you like French, like Marius?”

“No,” said Enjolras. “My family is French.”

“Are you half, like Grantaire?” asked the alien.

“I - um, I -” Enjolras stammered.

“Enjolras is fully human,” said Marius. “We picked him up on accident. Be gentle with him, please.”

“Gentle is my middle name,” said the alien, waving a hand (?) dismissively, as though Marius could see it. “Did I use that phrase correctly? I feel like all the other crew members have a better grasp on English than I do.”

Enjolras, who was still getting used to the talking bird, forgot to answer. The alien stared intently at him until he caught himself.

“You speak very clearly,” he said. “Truly, it’s - your grammar and vocabulary is spot on.”

The alien grimaced. “But the accent? I have the upper hand over Jehan in that respect, but I can’t exactly - I can’t lower my voice enough. It  _ warbles _ .”

“It’s beautiful,” said Enjolras. He meant it, too.

Feathers puffed up. It constituted a blush.

“I’m Cosette,” said the alien. “Are you lost?”

“Just exploring,” said Enjolras.

“Come explore over here,” said Cosette. “We’re having a party.”

Enjolras began to stammer. He was normally pretty good at meeting new people - he’d had a lot of practice with other humans and making them feel at ease with him - but he was tired and overwhelmed and didn’t want to have to account for human and inhuman expressions and mannerisms, because it was exhausting enough to have to think about human mannerisms alone, so he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be thrown into a vat of aliens or into any party at all.

Cosette didn’t seem to notice, but Marius did.

“Cosette,” said Marius. “Enjolras should probably be getting back to his quarters. Grantaire will be looking for him.”

Cosette looked straight through him. She was staring into his eyes, but she seemed to be occupied with something directly behind his head, or maybe inside of it.

“You’ll come by later, though, yes?” said Cosette. “Grantaire will know where to find us.”

Enjolras nodded, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do. Cosette seemed satisfied.

Once she was gone, Enjolras looked up at the ceiling.

“Marius,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” said Enjolras.

“Oh!” said Marius. “Well, no problem. Cosette means well. She’s very determined. Anyway, that’s lovely.”

“What is?” asked Enjolras.

“That you thanked me. Folks who are new to AI’s don’t normally thank me for anything,” said Marius. “I think most of them still see me as - well, to use something you know from Earth, I think they mostly see me as some kind of a glorified Siri, only instead of telling you what restaurants are in range, I fly the ship and make sure you all don’t die. And I have independent thought, but whatever.”

“People really do that?” said Enjolras. “Just, take what they need and then ignore you? That’s terribly rude.”

“I suppose. But I don’t correct them, anyhow,” said Marius.

Enjolras suddenly looked indignant. He put his hands on his hips.

“And why not?” he said.

“Don’t pout like that,” said Marius. “I don’t have cameras in that intersection, but I can feel you pouting. It’s okay. I don’t - if someone makes in on board this ship without having been exposed to an AI with independent thought, they’re probably already having a pretty stressful day. I don’t want to make it worse. My job is to pilot, to monitor all systems and make sure my passengers - my  _ friends _ and their guests - are as safe as I can make them. For me, that includes not rocking anyone’s world views. Besides, they aren’t normally around long enough for it to matter.”

“Oh,” said Enjolras.

“Not like! Not ‘they aren’t around very long’ as in they  _ die _ , or anything. I meant, like, that they leave! They’re normally here to pick something up or to hitchhike or something. Everything is fine,” said Marius.

This little outburst, though totally sincere, did not help Enjolras feel any safer on the ship. He felt even smaller, and he’d been doing an awful lot of  _ feeling small _ , ever since that first alien showed up in the forest outside his house. He hadn’t been comfortable in - well. He still wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, but it couldn’t be very long, could it? He’d be surprised to find out it had been any longer than a few hours.

“Speaking of,” said Marius. “You must have had an exhausting day. Is there anything I can help you with? Any questions you want to ask?”

“Yes,” said Enjolras. “I have - God, I have a thousand questions.”

“Ask away,” said Marius.

“Can you get me back to where I was? The room, I mean,” said Enjolras.

“Turn around,” said Marius. “Take a right. Then -”

\---

Once Enjolras was situated comfortably in his room again, the questioning began. 

“Why do you all speak English? The teph said it was a trend -”

“It is, but we all speak English because Grantaire can’t speak most interstellar languages,” said Marius. “He can understand most of the crew’s native languages even if he can’t produce them, though, so you’ll still hear an unfamiliar language or two. Certain languages, though, are incomprehensible to human or half-human ears.”

Enjolras hummed. He knew what it was like to lose a language - his family had failed to pass down Hungarian at all, and despite Enjolras himself being only a third generation American, even his grandmother was unable to speak it - but this was a whole new level. If he tried hard enough, if he had the time, he could speak at least  _ some _ Hungarian. He couldn’t imagine being physically incapable of even trying the way the Grantaire was.

“And they - the teph - said something about half-human colonies, and that they mostly spoke English. Why is that?” asked Enjolras.

“It sort of happened on accident,” said Marius. “They mostly come from England and America because of your weird alien fetishes.”

“Excuse me,” said Enjolras.

“England has that whole thing with  _ Doctor Who _ ,” said Marius. “So a bunch of people think it’s awfully funny to buzz there, dressed up like the fake aliens. Then in America, you write those fascinating tabloids about people who’ve seen aliens. It’s supposed to be a rite of passage to get your buzz published.”

“And since aliens mostly show up those two places -”

“The population of half-humans with English speaking parents is very high, proportionally speaking,” said Marius. “Right. Now, most of them don’t look exactly so - not so traditionally  _ human _ as Grantaire, but they also don’t normally look so much like their non-human parent either. Oftentimes, they’d be shunned by either of their parent races.”

“They have to make a home for themselves,” said Enjolras sadly. He hated that - he couldn’t relate to it, not properly - but he knew what being mixed was like. He knew what it was like to not feel like you belong with either of your parent’s families.

“If they didn’t speak English before, they’ll learn it once they join a half-human group,” said Marius. "Just because aliens like to make fun of English speakers. There aren't very many of them, but there are a few sub-groups that get together and purposefully speak not-English."

"They speak alien languages instead?" asked Enjolras.

"Not necessarily," said Marius. "I was referring to groups which speak non-English Earth languages. You could ask Courfeyrac about it - he used to live in one."

Enjolras hummed. He'd have to ask Courfeyrac once he met him.

And so they went. Enjolras was wild with questions. What were intergalactic politics like? Interspecies etiquette? What did Marius mean when he said the ship did ‘obscure research’? After a while, Enjolras became worried that he was asking too much of Marius. Asking so many questions was probably distracting Marius from his job.

“That’s kind,” said Marius. “But I wouldn’t worry. I’m a superintelligent AI. I am capable of multitasking.”

Enjolras nodded. He remembered a beat too late that Marius couldn’t see him.

“Sorry. I nodded,” he said.

“That’s alright,” said Marius. “There are certain rooms - like the mess hall and kitchens - where I have cameras and I can see, but residential quarters aren’t outfitted like that. In fact, it’s taking a minor amount of effort right now for to talk with you, since you’re in one of them.”

“I can - I could sit in the hall,” said Enjolras.

“Why would you do that?” said Grantaire. Enjolras jumped. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. Have you been here the whole time?”

Enjolras opened his mouth but Grantaire didn’t wait for him to answer.

“Listen,” said Grantaire. “Your day has probably been pretty weird, but I gotta take you to the bridge.”

“Why?” said Enjolras.

This was not the answer Grantaire was expecting. He had already started walking away and had to stop and turn back to Enjolras.

“Captain wants to see you,” said Grantaire. “So, the bridge.”

“I can’t - you understand that I can’t just follow you blindly,” said Enjolras.

“You don’t have much of a choice,” said Grantaire.

“I always have a choice,” said Enjolras.

Grantaire offered him a severe look in lieu of a snide comment. Enjolras didn’t take him up on it, so Grantaire was left with no choice but to push his buttons.

“You can’t really believe that,” said Grantaire. “We kidnapped you.”

“You saved me,” said Enjolras.

“Sure, but don't make it sound all noble. I did also end up kidnapping you,” said Grantaire.

“For safety reasons,” said Enjolras.

“Yeah,  _ my  _ safety. The crew’s safety. Nothing would happen to you if we dropped you back off. I mean, maybe someone might try to alter your memories or something, but it’s unlikely,” said Grantaire.

“They would - are you being serious or are you just being mean?” asked Enjolras. “You’ll recall that this is my first day in space.”

“I’m being serious,” said Grantaire. “You don’t really have a say in a whole lot here. I mean, sure, we’ll give you this room, and we’ll give you free range of the ship, whatever. You don’t get a say in whether or not we leave the Earth, when we come back, what we do in the meantime. The reason we don’t drop you off right now isn’t because of  _ your _ safety - it’s the safety of the crew. And yes - the police can and would try to alter your memories. Your species is supposed to make contact on its own.”

Enjolras huffed." _Your_ species. Do you not feel even a _little_ kinship towards humanity? Didn't you say you were raised human?" said Enjolras. “And - and changing my memories! That is a  _ huge _ invasion of my person."

"Don't talk to me about _humanity_ ," said Grantaire sharply. Enjolras thought he'd gone to far, but then Grantaire’s lips quirked up. “Invasion. Is that really the word you want to use?”

Enjolras blushed. It wasn’t, really, but he’d already said it.

“That isn’t - that isn’t  _ humane _ ,” said Enjolras. “They can’t just change my memories! They belong to me - I experienced them!”

“Who cares if it isn’t humane?” said Grantaire. “They aren’t human. Did you forget?”

Enjolras deflated. He’d forgotten. Again. It was easy to forget when it was just him and Grantaire in a blank room.

“Fine,” said Enjolras. “The bridge?”

Grantaire nodded and led him. Enjolras sulked the whole way there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i really am hungarian and we really did lose the language - the joys of forced assimilation! everything you read here about enjolras being mixed race is probably directly from me being mixed race. its a good, weird time. as usual, feel free to come chat w/ me on tumblr abt whatever!

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment! i love each one. also i have no idea what im doing so let me know if it makes any sense?? its four twenty three in the morning help im so tired  
> if you wanna get in touch with me when im not on ao3, or if you just wanna hang out, im on tumblr @putoriius !


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